Title: Such Presumption

Rating: G

Category: Humour/Drama/Family

Summary: Yazoo spies a vista and sees another life beyond the one appointed to him, however, Sephiroth has something to say about this little gap of rebellion.

Author's Note: Sorry this took a bit longer. My inspiration was slow in coming up with this one. But today it coughed back into life... and here is the final chapter of 'Such Presumption'. Yazoo was a blank slate, and initially this was frustrating to work with... until I took the idea of a blank slate itself and ran away with it. Hope you enjoy this last chapter. Reviews much appreciated :)

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Yazoo's a blank slate, but a blank slate with potential. He's the pretty boy model, the poster boy for the newest edition of 'Elite'. He's the ethereal angel luring children down the garden path. He's a swift and graceful weapon against foes. He's cold, clear-cut and knows what he's supposed to want. Yazoo prefers the mystery, if anyone ever knew the truth... it would be disappointing to say the least. Of the three, Yazoo is most aware of a certain status called 'Momma's boy', and unlike Kadaj who seems proud to tout such a title and Loz who couldn't care less... Yazoo secretly aspires to being something beyond another Momma's boy.

Of course, he loves Jenova. But between bouts of sashying down the street, winning children over with sweet promises, chasing after Big Brother and listening to Kadaj's most recent Sephiroth-inspired nightmare... Yazoo spies a vista. But he's always so busy, so he can only afford a short glimpse of the vista but the more he sees it, the more he wants. But he has to be careful, Mother's always watching and Kadaj doesn't appreciate less than 100 devotion to the cause. Dealing with Kadaj's tantrums is one thing, but the wrath of Mother? He has to watch his thoughts ever so carefully.

But on the odd occasion she's speaking to Loz or Kadaj, Yazoo lets his mind wander. What would it be like to saunter down to that pretty little cafe and grab a hot chocolate? Or to be that little girl whining to her a mother? Or the old man avidly chatting with his companions over a game of chess?

The world's like me, he decides, a blank slate with potential. But so much more potential than me. So much more freedom.

It's not worth it, a voice booms in his thoughts. Sephiroth!

Yazoo freezes, he should of expected him... constant companion of Mother in their private limbo. He chides himself for such clumsiness, he can only hope Sephiroth won't say anything to Mother.

Sephiroth chuckles then speaks again, I lived in that world too. But there was no freedom. There was simply confusion and even pain. Until Mother. Appreciate Mother at least, Yazoo. She is your guiding light, our guiding light.

Yazoo doesn't know what to say... Sephiroth's word is supposed to be as good as Mother. He was the first, the greatest and likely to be most beloved. It's almost unnatural not to trust him. Yazoo knows little of Sephiroth's life before Mother, except it was like some sort of gold-gilded slavery and full of confusion. He knows he hasn't much to argue about if he has no material, no proof.

And Sephiroth seems to know this too, Yazoo can almost feel a gentle caress across his face. He speaks again, his voice becoming gentle, Trust Mother, Yazoo, and forget the world, it's all lies and illusions. Humans are brilliant conjurors, but that's all they are... conjurors. There's no substance to their world or themselves and I know this from first-hand experience. Trust Mother, she is the only real thing in this gigantic illusion, Yazoo.

Yazoo starts to feels guilty, that sour feeling of wrongness running through him. How could he be so seduced?

And I won't tell Mother, Yazoo.

Sephiroth's voice fades away, as does his general presence. At least, Yazoo has that despite his guilt. His secret slip-up is safe. Or maybe he deserves to be exposed, deserves to be exposed to the full wrath of Jenova. Perhaps the inferno of her anger would burn out any last remaining particles of curiosity, of weakness.

Perhaps even the vista itself is an illusion, just like the the sweet lolly promises he throws out to the children.